Draco's Keeper
by 0idontknow0
Summary: Draco did what he had to to escape an angry mob—change into his Animagus form. Now he's found himself being nursed back to health at the Romanian Dragon Reservation with Charlie Weasley as his Keeper.


**Title**: Draco's Keeper  
**Pairing(s)/Character(s)**: Draco/Charlie  
**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.  
**Rating**: PG13  
**Word Count**: ~15k  
**Summary**: Draco did what he had to to escape an angry mob—change into his Animagus form. Now he's found himself being nursed back to health at the Romanian Dragon Reservation with Charlie Weasley as his Keeper.  
**Author Notes**: Haha, so this took me a while to write but it was an interesting and enjoyable journey. Thanks to dracogotgame for leaving the prompt, I hope you like it. And _many_ thanks to sassycat for her fantastic beta skills and digthewriter for setting us up (and for the extension!). I couldn't have done it without either of you =D.

* * *

February the tenth. It was _finally_ February the tenth. Draco's three thousand hours of community payback were complete. His four hundred days of slaving away working on the reconstruction of properties damaged during the war were over. He clocked out once he had finished smearing the cement onto the wall and cleaning his tools.

Despite how much he had hated all the manual labour at the beginning of his sentence Draco had got used to it, was even proud of a few of the things he had helped finish in the past year. Construction was one of those processes that used minimal amounts of magic when possible. You mixed materials manually, dealt with complicated structures the same way as well. Straightforward jobs were what the most magic was used for, and even then it was not exactly much. The magic in the structures needed to last and since spells generally nullified upon the caster's death it was not exactly conducive to safety. Permanent spell casting was for Foundation Charmers to work into structures, not construction workers.

After clocking out, Draco Apparated to his Offender Manager to get his Proof of Community Payback. He checked in every other week and they discussed his sentence, his life, what he had planned for himself in the years to come. It would all be put towards regular reports on his behaviour, his likelihood of relapsing into criminal behaviour and whether the current program seemed to be working well for him.

Now that Community Payback was over, the curfew that he had at 1900 hours would be dropped and he would be legally allowed to visit pubs, clubs and areas outside Wizarding London. He could deal with the restrictions that would still be on his wand for the next nine years and his ban from the Hog's Head, Knockturn Alley and any other known criminal haunts.

"I'm sorry, Draco, but you still have a hundred hours to go," said Anthony Katz, his Offender Manager and one of the few people who was willing to take him on as a client _and_ treat him well. Those two things were difficult to come by as a joint package.

The man was young, in his mid-twenties, and dangerously optimistic about a person's ability to reform. Draco supposed that was a good thing in his case, well he _usually_ thought that. Anthony had slightly curly, chestnut hair, an unimposing face and a fairly short stature. Today he was sporting a fairly colourful kippah, last time it was black and white.

"What do you mean I still have one hundred hours to go?" he asked, after taking time to stop himself from lashing out in rage. It had not done him well the past year and it had been abundantly clear to him that he had needed to control his temper, lest people take civilian action. "I kept track of it myself. I've worked seven and a half hours, for four hundred days, with half hour lunch breaks. How am I _not done_?"

"Well, according to the documents your contractors have sent over your hours haven't added up," Anthony said. "There are a few sick days and one hour lunch periods-"

"Of _course_ there are," he drawled, sliding lower in his seat.

"Draco, are you telling me they shaved off a hundred of your hours?" Anthony asked, looking at him concernedly. "Because we can dispute it. And if you can find co-workers to confirm you were working when they said-"

"Just leave it," he sighed, rubbing his eyes. There was no way he would find witnesses for every instance, and even if he did there was a very slim chance of them _wanting_ to speak up for him. The only people he could think of that might speak honestly were other criminals serving a sentence, and the court would automatically question their credibility. "I'll serve the hundred hours."

"You can make an appeal-"

"What's… how much is it... two more weeks? What's two more weeks, Anthony?" he asked, plastering a smile on his face. He dropped the smile when Anthony gave him an unamused look. "I know you think we can do all that, but most everyone's displeased with my sentence as it is. And it can't have been just one contractor shaving off hours. Who's going to believe that almost all of them were doing it? Especially with _me_ making the claim."

"You shouldn't have to put up with this. You've as many rights as every other British Wizarding citizen," Anthony said.

"So you keep telling me. And maybe it'd be true if you were in charge, but you aren't," he said, smiling wryly and getting up. "Look, I'll do the time and then we can have a drink or something after. Probably somewhere Muggle so people don't come at us with pitchforks."

"I don't like this," Anthony sighed, putting Draco's papers back in their file.

"Likewise," he agreed, heading for the door. "I'll see you in two weeks though, yeah?"

"Fine," Anthony grumbled. "Two weeks. But I'm going to have a friend of mine look at these for tampering. I won't say you've noticed anything."

"You're too kind, Anthony," he said, halfway out the door. "But thank you."

.o.

It was the last day of Draco's community payback, again, and tiling a roof was the last thing he wanted to be doing but there were only two hours left to go. He doubted he would be able to have that drink with Anthony since he was not feeling particularly well. Hopefully a night's rest would help him bounce back. Once he was done, slightly overtime, Draco packed up the tools and went to clock out. He bade his good-byes to the few people he got on with, mostly people serving sentences, and then Apparated to Anthony's office.

"Well, everything's in order this time 'round," Anthony smiled, stamping things and flipping papers.

"Brilliant. I don't have to live by a curfew anymore," he yawned. Nor did he have to slave away tiling a bloody roof when they were in the middle of winter.

Anthony glanced up at him while signing something and furrowed his brows. He wore a blue and white kippah today. Draco was not sure if he had ever seen the same one more than three times the past year.

"You all right?" Anthony asked. "You look a bit pale."

"Don't I always?" he joked.

"I'm serious," Anthony said. He laid the papers in front of Draco and made little x's where he needed to sign. "You should get some rest. And Pepperup. In reverse order."

"I don't have any. Besides, the apothecaries are closing up soon and I-," he paused, with his quill mid-air. "Hm, I don't have to get home early." He smiled a little and signed the papers.

"And with that," Anthony said, taking up the last document Draco signed. "It's official. Community payback is done!"

"Wonderful," he said, before sniffling.

"I vote that we put off drinks until you're well again," Anthony said. "And I will see you in a month, as usual. And if all goes well you'll be free to roam within a year."

"I like that you've got optimism," he said as he touched a hand to his neck. He felt a bit warm.

"One of us needs to have it," Anthony said. "And I had those documents looked at. There's evidence of tampering. I'm going to-"

"Whatever you do, don't go stirring up trouble for yourself, all right?" he interrupted. Draco could just imagine Anthony getting bogged down with all sorts of political shit if they did not like his poking around.

"I'm nice, Draco, not stupid," Anthony reassured. "Now go get some sleep."

.o.

Considering that Draco could make it to Mr. Mulpepper's before closing, he Apparated to Diagon Alley. The tubular suction made his head twinge sharply and he rubbed gingerly at his temples. He tried to keep an eye out for any spells that might be cast his way as he made his way into the apothecary. Draco made quick work of fetching himself a phial of Pepperup and a Headache potion and going to the counter. The smell of the apothecary with its pungent odours had him feeling a sudden bout of nausea. He got out the Sickles he needed and set them and the phials on the counter for the cashier.

"You're that Malfoy fellow," the cashier said, a witch that might have been in her forties or so. "We don't cater to your sort. You'll have to go elsewhere."

"At least sell me a phial of Pepperup," he said, politely. He was not about to attempt going to the Mulpepper's in Knockturn Alley, seeing as he was not allowed to. "Please?"

"No," she said, taking the phials and putting them behind the counter. "The apothecary's _closed_ to you."

"Really, you're going to deny me a medicinal potion?" he asked, peeved. He almost said that he was a citizen like everyone else and had every right to receive fair service, but that would have been Anthony's misplaced optimism leaking over to him. "Brilliant. Thank you. That's decent of you."

"Don't _you_ try to tell me anything about decency, you little shit," she spat at him. "You should be in _Azkaban_ for what you've done."

"Oi, Death Eater, quit harassing the lady," said the only other wizard in the shop. He approached them wearing a look of anger and disgust that Draco had grown much too used to. "Leave."

Draco sighed inwardly and moved to reach for his Sickles. The witch reeled back as if he had tried to attack her and the wizard drew his wand. Draco barely managed a Shield Charm before a hex zoomed at him. Everything after that was a flurry of events: the witch screaming for help as the wizard's spell rebounded and nearly hit him, Draco running out of the shop and towards an Apparition point, the passers-by stopping him before he got there and surrounding him in an angry mob.

The wards in public spaces were stricter after the war and people could only Apparate and Disapparate from designated Apparition points rather than arbitrary locations. Hexes stung him and roars of outrage filled his ears. People threw things at him, rubbish, groceries; whatever they could get their hands on. Draco did not make a habit of venturing out very often and _this_ was precisely why. He was more or less left alone when he had been working because everyone wanted the construction to be finished as quickly as possible, but it was after hours now and Draco was not being useful to them in any way.

The chaos was overwhelming and the crowd was suffocating. Draco's heart was pounding in his chest, fear was rising from the pit of his stomach and he was gasping to get air in his lungs, his headache and rising fever making things all the worse. He panicked and called forth his Animagus form despite not having perfected the entire process. His body morphed, lengthening and growing so that the crowd had to disperse and give him room. Draco spread his wings and then kicked off as he flapped them. He flew blindly, not quite knowing where he was going. His goal was to escape from danger and that was what he did, screeching as he felt curses burn across his scales.

.o.

When Draco crash landed in a field he had no clue where he was. There were houses nearby and he thankfully did not land on any of them when he fell. He tried to revert to human form but nothing happened save for him huffing a bit. He curled up and pulled his wings in. Maybe he just needed a bit of rest.

.o.

People were shouting and running towards him. They kept their distance but Draco could make out their faces in the night and the magic that rolled off of them. He was sure he saw a Weasley or two.

Well, that was just his luck.

* * *

The Floo roared and chimed, rousing Charlie from his state of half-sleep. He had barely been in bed for more than half an hour, at the most. He slapped his cheek and shook himself as he shuffled out of the bed to answer the call. It was Ron.

"Do you have any idea the day I've had, Ron?" he asked, sitting on the floor and levelling his brother with a glare. "What's happened? Is Mum having nightmares about one of us dying again?"

"No, this is a work call actually," Ron said, said worriedly. "A, uh, well… a dragon crashed into the field on the hill. It's not rampaging or anything. Looks ill if you ask me, and like some wizards have had a go at it. It's sleeping right now."

Charlie straightened and then got up to grab his coat. "Stay in the house. I'll be there as quickly as I can," he said. "I'm going to report it and then come over. And Ron, if there was ever a time to heed the Hogwarts' motto, it'd be now."

"I think I've had enough of dragons after Gringotts thanks," Ron said, with a wince. "And hurry, Mum's panicked and Dad isn't all that much better."

It was a good thing Charlie usually slept in something decent. He never knew when he would have to get up due to an emergency on the reservation or apparently at the Burrow as well. Blimey, a dragon in Ottery St. Catchpole of all places.

He paused and turned back around before the connection was cut. "Common Welsh Green or Hebridean Black?" he asked, since one was far more difficult to manage than the other and it would tell them how many people needed to be sent to the scene.

"I dunno, mate. It isn't either of them," Ron said. "It looks… well it looks like an Antipodean Opaleye."

"The bloody hell?" he muttered. What was one of those doing in Britain? It was a long ways away from New Zealand and Australia.

"That's what I said."

.o.

A visit to the main office and four Floo stops later found Charlie stepping out of the Burrow's fireplace followed by two other dragon keepers. He spared a moment to say hello to his parents because Mum would admonish him otherwise, and then had Ron point him in the right direction. He could have spotted the dragon for himself if he just looked around but he would rather not waste time. There was no knowing how long the dragon would be asleep, the mental state it was in or how it would behave if some idiot decided to disturb it. Opaleyes were very peaceful compared to most other dragons but this one was extremely far from home and likely feeling lost. It would be unpredictable.

Wands at the ready and enchanted dragon hide restraints in hand, Charlie and his co-workers advanced on the dragon. Its breath was laboured and as Charlie made his way around it he could see burns and blast wounds on its body. He could not help but wince at the sight of it. The dragon was bleeding out.

As he carefully got into place, the dragon's nostrils flared and its eye snapped open, rolling in his direction. It was difficult to tell if the creature had focused on him though, since Opaleyes did not have pupils but just glimmering, colourful irises. He kept his breath calm and he maintained an air of friendly dominance. Appearing hostile would agitate the creature.

The dragon's eye flittered up and down his body. It snorted and gave a wheeze, backing away from him like a frightened, wounded crup. Its eye kept going between Charlie's face and… and the restraints.

"These?" he asked calmly, as he slowly raised the restraints he held. "We just need to make sure you don't attack anyone. You're a _long_ way from home, you're hurt and you're in a civilian area. We can't have you going crazy on us."

The words rarely did anything when handling a wild dragon; it was more how they were said that had an effect.

"Wings," he said, in the same tone of voice.

He kept eye contact with the dragon as his co-workers quietly floated the restraints into place. The dragon whinged in its throat and struck its wings out, wincing. Charlie tossed the restraints in his hand, a muzzle, and spelled them onto the dragon's snout, struggling with the spell as the creature screeched and snapped its jaws trying to break free. At the same time the bindings for its wings bore down on it and drew them closed. Red flames came from the dragon's mouth in bursts until Charlie's spell finally took. The dragon slumped and whinged, breath still short and wounds even more agitated.

It kept on whining and wheezing.

"Shhh, we you aren't going to hurt you," he said, carefully approaching the creature. It seemed content not to bother looking at him this time around.

Charlie walked around to one of the wounds and grimaced as he got a better look. He did not go too close and he minded the tail. Charlie cast a few charms to slow the bleeding and reduce the pain but could not do much more than that until the Healers arrived.

"He's cold!" shouted Jen.

"Heating Charms!" he yelled, and he began to cast. Dragons usually had a very high internal temperature. He had never seen one run hot before. Hypothermia was their equivalent of a fever. "Hugh, fire-call the reservation to send over some heating blankets with the Healers."

By the time Charlie was anywhere near the dragon's head again its eyes had begun to droop. He swore and tried to keep its attention until the Dragon Healers arrived.

"Hey, don't you fall asleep on me after giving all this trouble," he said. "You've lost too much blood for that and we've just cast a ridiculous amount of Heating Charms on you."

.o.

By morning the dragon had been treated as best it could be and wrapped snugly in heating blankets to keep its temperature up. It did not seem at all interested in lashing out at them or trying to escape the cocoon the blankets made around it. Actually, it hardly seemed to have any issues until the transport sling and winged horses arrived. At that point it made a fuss and did not settle down until Charlie managed to talk it into a semblance of calm.

"_Shhh_. We're just taking you to a safer place where you can heal up," he said, staring the dragon in the eye. It was breathtaking to look at in the sunlight, all white scales and glimmering gold accents where the light hit it. "And once you're better we'll get you home."

It snorted at him but otherwise remained calm enough for them to easily put it to sleep before transport.

.o.

Charlie hummed as he left the canteen. He headed for the recent hatchlings to see how they and Momma Dragon were faring in their spot of the reservation. He had just finished putting out feeding for the little ones when Jen walked up to him.

"That Opaleye we got the other day, he isn't eating," Jen said, looking annoyed. "It's been a couple days and, honestly, he's being a bit of a pain in the arse. I _swear_ he's glaring me."

"And I'm supposed to fix this?" he laughed.

"Looked like he liked you best," she said, nodding. "So, yeah, pretty much."

"Maybe he'd have warmed up to you a bit more if you hadn't made that comment about how he'd make a great pair of trousers," he said.

"He would," she said, shrugging. "Or a blouse even, or winter robes. Line those with some fur on the inside and they'd be warm, comfy and fire retardant."

"I honestly wonder why you took up this line of work," he muttered. "And I'll see what I can do."

"Good," she said, turning for them to walk to the Opaleye's valley. "And it's not as if I was suggesting we let him die so we could skin him. Just that _if_ he died we'd have a lovely hide on our hands. Have you seen his skin? Imagine wearing that."

* * *

Draco should eat, really he should, he just did not have an appetite and he was cold and he just wanted to sleep it all off. His wounds ached when he moved and he reckoned the only reason he was so groggy was because he apparently had to be sedated for the dragon keepers to change his bandages and whatever else they did while he was sleeping, administer potions maybe. He glanced at the keeper in front of him, Hugh, with distaste as the man floated a large bucket over to him yet again. Was there a reason they had to speak to him like a sick child? And did they really have to be giving him baby feed? Brandy and chicken's blood was not whetting his already absent appetite. He just wanted to get better and then sort out the shit storm that would fall down on him once he managed to revert, assuming he would be able to. Merlin knew Draco was in for a legal scolding, even if he was under duress when he changed. The fact that there was a mob at all would have got him in trouble. He did not even want to contemplate what the Wizengamot had planned for him this time around, Azkaban most likely.

"I've got Icarus here's favourite keeper," said Jen. Beside her was the Weasley, Charlie - it seemed as if no one around here really used surnames. He had a magical aura that Draco found surprisingly warm and inviting.

"Don't start calling him that just because he fell from the sky," Hugh said sternly, echoing Draco's thoughts on the name. "And the last time one of you gave a temporary stay a pet name, you got all sentimental when we had to transfer it."

"Ah, leave her alone. It isn't her fault animals were for hunting when she was a kid. She's compensating," Charlie said, as he walked up to Draco, meaning he stopped about fifteen feet away. "Hey you, remember me?"

Draco looked at the Weasley and grunted. He was shorter than the one in Draco's year with longer hair, a muscular build and a number of burns.

Charlie watched Draco curiously and stood up straighter. "Do you understand what I'm saying?" he asked.

Draco grunted again.

"Well I take it he isn't wild then," Jen said.

"And that he probably heard you talking about turning him into a pair of boots," Hugh laughed. "I'm surprised he hasn't tried to eat you yet, or _flambé_ you."

"Shut it," Jen snapped, blushing. "He's probably been very well trained and has enough manners not to gobble people up for no reason."

"Wanting to skin him _is_ a reason," Hugh pointed out.

"I wonder who your owner is…" Charlie hummed, eyes skimming Draco's neck. "You don't have a collar or any brands... Anyway, you need to drink that up. Don't turn your nose up at it. You aren't well enough to stomach sheep."

Draco turned his head away and closed his eyes, fully intending to go back to sleep. He did not think he could eat while worrying over what would happen when he returned to London. Someone was sure to find him here.

Charlie sighed and muttered, "For the love of- You stubborn dragon."

There was the sound of footsteps, the sloshing of liquid and Jen and Hugh exclaiming sharply. Draco half opened an eye and saw Charlie lugging the bucket of feed towards him. Charlie was actually coming near him, near enough to put the bucket right in front of Draco's snout. Was the man an _idiot_? Who trusts a strange dragon on whimsy? Never mind that Draco's breed was less aggressive than most and really only killed when it was necessary to eat.

"Come on, you need to get something in your system," Charlie said, arms folded as he looked at Draco pointedly. "You won't get any better if you don't."

Draco snorted a pitiful plume of smoke at the man. He was worse off than he had thought if that was all the smoke he could manage.

"I've seen six month old dragons do better than that," Charlie said, teasing him. Draco might have felt a bit offended by that if he had not known that it was completely true. "Come on, drink up. You want to get better, yeah?"

Since his health was on the line Draco lifted his head and lapped at his feed. It did not take him very long to rest his head back down, feeling slightly dizzy. Maybe he could eat after another nap and maybe he would be warmer then too.

"Quit groaning. I'll be right back, yeah?" Charlie said, after he spent a few moments watching Draco -who was apparently groaning. "I think I need to feed you with one of the bottles."

.o.

When Draco woke up he had one of those heated blankets wrapped around him. He was noticeably warmer and a little less groggy. He pressed his wings more tightly to his body and tucked his tail in, the slightly exposed bit now under the blanket.

"Good, you're up," said Charlie. When he came into view, Draco could see a large bottle with a nozzle at the end and what smelled like his feed. "You still haven't eaten anything and your temperature started dropping earlier. So, eat or I'll have to force feed you. Which, quite frankly, is a dangerous endeavour on my part and I'd rather not have to try that."

Ah, right. Draco had fallen asleep before Charlie got back. Well, he was too in agreement with the man to huff at him and so he opened his mouth for the bottle. It was large enough that Charlie had to float it into place and then brace it with his shoulder as he held it upright. Draco ignored that he felt very much like a toddler while nursing the bottle but once he started it was difficult to stop.

He was _hungry_.

"Yeah, I think it's empty now," Charlie chuckled, as Draco tried to get every last drop from the bottle. He was nowhere near full.

After two more bottles Draco purred in content, his chest rumbling. Charlie grinned at him.

"Now imagine if you had just eaten earlier instead of giving Hugh and Jen trouble," Charlie said, walking down the length of Draco's neck. He grabbed the blanket and began to pull it with him as he made his way back to Draco's head, covering Draco's neck in warmth. "Those were some nasty curses you got hit with, some of them are borderline illegal. Who would want to hurt a precious thing like you? Hmmm?"

Draco could not help the whine that escaped him at that. If the man only knew just how many people wanted him dead. He could still hear the outraged cries and see the mob of people converging on him.

"Whoa, hush. Shhhh," Charlie cooed, hesitating before smoothing a hand over Draco's cheek and looking him in an eye. "You're safe here, and whoever did this to you is a right piece of shit. You're a wonderful, handsome dragon, yeah? I'd keep you if I could. Then again, I'd probably keep most dragons I came across. I'm a bit like my friend Hagrid in that way. He's the one that gave us Norberta; she's over on the other side of the reservation. Had to smuggle her out of Hogwarts when she was a baby."

And on Charlie went, recounting most of the dragons he had rescued, helped birth and looked after at the reservation. Draco listened quietly. He was a bit annoyed at being subjected to the numerous stories but in the end he marvelled at how much this Charlie bloke cared about what he did, even if he had been sent to the infirmary a few times. Draco felt as if he was in good hands, at least while he was a dragon.

He fell asleep listening to Charlie.

.o.

A few days later Draco was well enough to have minced sheep added to his feed. He was not at a point where ripping one apart for himself was recommended and they did not want to have him trying to digest bone just yet— because he was bound to swallow a few small ones. Charlie was in charge of feeding him and he had started to talk to Draco about his day or his life during the time they spent together. As a result, Draco now knew that Mrs. Weasley kept insisting that Charlie cut his hair and find himself a nice young lady to settle down with and have a family— especially since Bill and Fleur (who knew Delacour married into the Weasley clan?) were expecting a second child. Draco also knew that Charlie happened to be gay so that family bit was not going to happen anytime soon, if at all. There was also the fact that the man seemed too invested in his job to even be looking for anyone to spend his life with.

He had also learned that Charlie was not as comfortable with his burns as he appeared, but they were part of the job so he 'might as well get over them'. And despite how tough he looked, Charlie had cried the first time one of his dragons passed away and when he had first seen an egg hatch. He also knew that Charlie had met Jen during his first week at the reservation when a sheep ran away from her all the way into his cabin. They had been best friends ever since.

.o.

"His temperature is up," Jen said, tucking her wand in its holster and then awkwardly patting Draco's side. "Finally. Help me get the blankets off him."

"Sure," Charlie said, tossing some _solid_ meat in front of Draco and then going to help her. "So, how was your date?"

"What date?" Jen asked, with a squeak in her voice. "Who said I went on a-"

"Tch, like we haven't noticed you flirting it up with Greg," Charlie said, amused. Draco opted for eating his food while they gossiped. The things dragons heard them say sometimes. "So did you go on a date or not? Don't lie."

"Fine, we did," Jen admitted. Draco blew some smoke onto the meat so that it was not as cold. He did not trust himself to avoid setting his bedding on fire if he tried to roast it -and while he could make it out safely, Jen and Charlie might not. "And it was better than any of the dates you've been on recently. Definitely more than a one-off this. Aside from scintillating conversation, the man knows how to use his cock. And I did that thing you told me about. Worked wonders and I didn't end up having to suck him off for an eternity. Who knew you had moves, Charlie."

"Of course I do," Charlie said. "I wasn't always this tame."

When Draco felt his wings free he flexed and stretched them as far as his stall would allow for. He made a point of not trying to figure out what Charlie had advised Jen on or who he had been on dates with. It evoked a strange sort of jealousy in him.

"Icarus," Jen said admiringly, a hand smoothing along Draco's scales as she and Charlie made their way back up to his head. "Just look at your wings."

Draco turned his head to glare at her.

"I can't believe you're still calling him that," Charlie muttered.

"Did you see him glare at me?" Jen asked, pointing at Draco. "I didn't even say anything!"

"You used that voice you always get when you see a nice hide," Charlie said, scratching at that spot on Draco's neck that always made him purr.

Jen snorted and spelled the blanket to wrap itself up. "Oh, speaking of, those sheep skins I treated came out really well," she said. "You know that robe you keep saying isn't warm enough? Hugh can line it for you now."

"You know what, why don't you and Hugh date each other?" Charlie suggested. Draco rather thought it was a terrible idea so he snorted to make it known. "What?"

"Icarus thinks it's a bad idea, and frankly I agree with him," Jen said, grabbing the blanket. "You're a terrible matchmaker, you know that? Probably why your dates always end as one offs."

"Shut it," Charlie said, as Jen began to lug the blanket back to the store rooms. "And stop calling him that."

"Fine," Jen hollered. "And maybe you should just date one of the dragons. They like you well enough. Just ask Icarus."

Draco avoided looking at her as he felt his temperature rise and his fire blaze.

"Tosser," Charlie muttered at her, before moving to look Draco in the eyes. "As if you would want to date me, eh. I don't think I have enough scales."

.o.

By now Draco could fly and walk comfortably but still needed to have his wounds treated for a bit. He was itching to stretch his limbs when Charlie came to his stall. It was past dinner time, and as far as he knew, Charlie did not have anything to do in the stables, which meant he was either there to take Draco for a fly or to stay with him until he went to bed.

Draco bent his neck and nudged Charlie with his snout. He seemed to be in a bad mood and his aura was a bit brooding.

"Hey, Icarus," Charlie said, rubbing his hand over the top of Draco's snout. The name Jen gave Draco had stuck and it seemed as if everyone on the reservation had begun to use it. "Just a casual visit before I run off to my folks for the weekend. Quick fly?"

Draco perked up at that and twitched his wings. He tolerated having a saddle strapped at the top of his spine and grumbled and fussed about the reins. He hated them. Absolutely hated them. They were caging and made him feel like some sort of pet. It was a little like his probation, just with better overall treatment.

"I know you hate the reins but I've got to use them," Charlie said. Draco huffed out a cloud of smoke as Charlie tightened the reins so that they were sturdy but not squeezing. "Hey, at least I don't buckle them as much as Jen and Hugh did. And I still find it absolutely hilarious that you refuse to fly with them."

Draco moved so that Charlie could climb up on the saddle more easily. Once Charlie was seated, he walked out of the stable and spread his wings before taking off. There were a few other dragons out but they did not seem to care too much about Draco or Charlie. They were either concerned with whether they could snatch an extra sheep before the keeper riding them noticed what they were up to or they were simply thrilled to be out of their stables.

For most of their flight Draco went wherever he wanted, avoiding proximity of Marja -a particularly tetchy Hungarian Horntail that had been in a mood since one of her eggs had failed to hatch. Charlie did not direct Draco's movements much at all only his speed. Draco avoided flying too high since humans were more susceptible to cold and the last thing he needed was for Charlie to get frostbite or hypothermia. He flew in circles and he dived and spiralled until he finally heard a laugh above him.

When he felt ready for a rest he flew down into the valley. There were no other dragons that were likely to rest there since they favoured the mountainous areas.

"I'm going to miss you over the weekend," Charlie said, climbing down from the saddle. "It's Fred and George's birthday though, so I reckon I should keep an eye on George if I can. He's been in a bit of a bad state since Fred died."

Draco laid down so that he was curled around Charlie, tucking his wings tightly against his back. He reckoned he knew what was bothering Charlie now. He could not say he was in any way close to either of the twins, but that did not mean he did not feel terrible for what had happened to them, to a lot of people.

"Thanks, boy," Charlie smiled, sitting and leaning back on Draco's side. He sighed and plucked at the grass. "You know, sometimes it's like we lost them both that day. George isn't really there most times and it's hard. He isn't present. And it bloody well kills Mum and Dad, especially Mum. You know how she worries. I hear Angelina's been on his back though, getting him to go out and what have you. Maybe things are looking up for him, yeah?"

By way of answer, Draco licked Charlie's face and then nipped lightly at Charlie's shirt with his lips.

"When Mum asks me who's got me in such a good mood I should just tell her I've met a nice dragon. See if it leaves her too speechless to lecture me about getting a wife." Charlie joked, scratching Draco's chin and making his jaw dangle. "Ugh, dragon breath. Shut your trap."

Draco snorted, offended, and turned his head away.

"Right, as if you're actually upset at me. You like me too much for that," Charlie said, stretching his legs out. "...Did you lose any family when you got lost?"

Draco glanced at Charlie and shook his head once. He did not have any family to lose. Lucius had died in Azkaban and Narcissa had fled to the Mediterranean after being acquitted. Any other living relatives were estranged.

"Hmmm, sounds lonely," Charlie said, rocking his feet from side to side so that they knocked together. "No brothers or sisters?"

Draco shook his head again.

"Shame," Charlie murmured. "They can be a bloody pain, but you can't help but love them. Even when they prank you and nearly burn the house down when your parents leave you in charge of them. Though, as a dragon, I reckon burning things down would be expected of you. You should see some of the hatchlings playing together. The Short-snouts that were hatched last month are little rascals. Troublemakers they are. Twins too..."

Draco watched Charlie quietly. There was not much else he could do. If he could change himself back then he would have been able to offer words of comfort. Then again, if he could change himself back he would probably lose this comfort.

Merlin, what was he doing getting attached like this? What was he going to do when it all went sideways? Charlie would be furious when he found out who Draco was and Draco did not know how he would handle that. Charlie was only befriending a dragon, he would get over it all eventually, but Draco … Draco had far too many emotions invested in this and he hated how easy it was for him to like Charlie.

"I miss Fred. I miss them _both_. Hell, I'd even let them shave my head in my sleep again just to see them laughing themselves blue," Charlie chuckled, his eyes glistening. He sniffed and brought his knees up. "I was bloody _livid_ when they did that. It was right before 6th year. I put salt in their pumpkin juice during breakfast the next day. It was hilarious, you should have… you should have seen it… I should have got to Hogwarts sooner… during the battle. I should have. Maybe if I had-"

Draco rested his head at Charlie's boot and nuzzled him gently. Charlie was trying not to cry and was failing rather miserably at it. Draco unfolded a wing and brought it down to the ground, providing Charlie with some privacy as he crooned at him. The sobs came freely after that, Charlie reaching out and crying into Draco's muzzle.

When they got back to the stables Charlie thanked him and gave him a kiss on the end of his nose. It made Draco exceedingly warm and left him purring. He fell asleep with Charlie petting him.

Oh, he was definitely in trouble now.

* * *

The weekend in Britain went well. George had perked up quite a bit since Charlie had last seen him; Angelina really had done wonders for him. There were moments where it was difficult not to notice Fred's absence but Charlie felt a lot more at peace about it than he had last year that first time they had to wish George a happy birthday when it was anything but.

He reckoned his flight with Icarus had helped a bit... a lot. Maybe he could request permanent stay for it in Romania. Charlie had never got on that well with one of his dragons and he would hate to see Icarus go. He had even missed the bloody dragon over the weekend.

.o.

Every now and then Charlie found himself thinking that he absolutely hated Hungarian Horntails, with their temper, and all those damned spikes, and their damned habit of spitting fire at bloody everything. He ducked behind a boulder and when instructed, he and anyone else that was clear to move struck out with a _Stupefy_. Half the spells hit the Horntail, Marja, and the rest hit the Welsh Green, Ned, that was being… mauled. Screeches and roars filled the air as fire burned the grass and dragons alike.

Marja swung her tail around and very nearly impaled a keeper. Other dragons that were out watched from various perches but did not intervene. The fight carried on and the creatures moved too quickly to get a clear shot at either of them. Ned was knocked back and Charlie and some others had to run out of the way and cast Shield Charms as he threatened to flatten them. They quickly cast a set of Stunning Spells to render him unconscious. Now they just had Marja to deal with, so long as she did not kill them first - which might prove problematic as she started to _attack_ them.

Spells flew at the rampant dragon and it roared and spit fire. People were bound to get burned, but hopefully the burns would not be critical. They needed to get out of Marja's line of fire and Stun her when she was not breathing fire or pouncing at them - she would flatten when she fell if they did manage to Stun her. Marja flew up in the air and only half the spells flying at her managed to hit. Everyone in Charlie's area was left exposed from her new vantage point and they ran for cover while others tried to distract and subdue her. She rounded on them and her tail swung around to him and Jen.

There was a loud roar and then bright red fire as Marja screeched and flew away from the flames as Icarus flew straight at her. Jen thanked all the deities she knew of and Charlie watched in shock as Icarus snapped and spat and clawed at Marja, flames spilling from the mouths of both dragons. Again, there was a tussle that made aiming bloody frustrating. But then there was a moment, a moment where both dragons were on their sides and fighting to come out on top. Someone yelled for them to fire before Charlie did and they finally managed to hit Marja with enough magic to Stun her.

"Too much excitement," Jen said, checking herself for injuries. "Too much. Too early. I haven't even had my coffee yet and I've nearly died at least _twice_. I take it all back. I don't want Icarus' hide. He can stay alive as long as he wants. I will _personally _skin a sheep or two for him today, cleanest I've ever done. He's earned it. Circe have mercy. I need to fire-call my parents and tell them it was me that finished all of Gran's Christmas pudding in December."

Charlie hardly listened to her as he began to make his way over to Icarus. Icarus was limping over to him and people were shouting at Charlie to be careful but he ignored them. He vaguely registered Jen and Hugh yelling that it was fine, that Icarus would not hurt him.

He smiled and reached a hand out to meet a scorched and bloody snout. He thought the burns seemed mostly superficial and should fade within the month at least. Charlie laughed when a wet tongue licked his palm and he hugged Icarus as the dragon nuzzled his head against Charlie.

"Thank you, you absolutely _mental_ lizard," he said. "Never seen an Opaleye with your temperament before. You've got a death wish don't you? Attacking a Horntail of all things. What would I have done if she'd got your throat?"

He had never had one of his dragons save his life before. They just _did not_ do that sort of thing. Charlie kissed his Opaleye's cheek and scratched its neck, listening to it and feeling it purr. There was nothing else that he could think to do or say to express just how touched he was, how grateful, how… he was not even sure really. It was all a bit much. He was taken completely by surprise when Jen nearly knocked him over to dish out her own hugs and words of gratitude, Hugh settling for a pat on the snout and then casting several Healing Charms.

Charlie hardly remembered that Marja and Ned had to be contained and treated as well, but he reckoned there were enough people around to do that without him.

.o.

After having very nearly died the previous day, Charlie fire-called his parents and his siblings in the evening. He had spent most of the time after the attack helping to calm the other dragons and get the reservation settled down again, not to mention watching over his Opaleye and soothing him as the Healers dressed his new wounds.

Charlie had just got around to fire-calling Ginny, smiling when he saw Harry's head appear in the flames.

"Soon to be brother-in-law, how goes it?" he greeted.

Harry glanced behind him and leaned in close. "Honestly, I'm being driven mad with questions about napkins and… other wedding things I didn't think we'd have to think about," he said. "Like who I want to sit where at the reception and the kind of icing I want on the cake. _Help me_."

"Right," he laughed. "I can't offer any advice, sorry. Ginny home?"

"No, I just feel like she is whenever I speak ill of the wedding plans," Harry said. "She's out doing something with Hermione. I'm not sure what. They've been all hush-hush, which is never good because recently I find myself on long shopping trips after. Is it important?"

"Not really. Just wanted to talk to her," he said. "Had a bit of commotion here yesterday and thought I should touch base with home."

"You're all right though, yeah?" Harry asked.

"Nothing more than a few bruises," he said.

"That's good," Harry nodded. "Oh, if you hear about any stray dragons can you tell me? I doubt he's stupid enough to be flying around, but Draco Malfoy's run away while on probation. Witnesses said they saw him turn into a dragon and fly off after harassing a shop owner in February. The Aurors have been looking for him but we're coming up with nothing."

"Do you know what breed he is?" he asked, stretching.

"Er… the white-ish one?" Harry asked more than said.

"He could be a Ukrainian Ironbelly or an Antipodean-" Charlie stopped and sat up because he honestly could not believe what he was thinking. "February you said?"

"'Round about, y-"

"I can't believe it," he muttered, getting up and storming out, Harry calling out behind him.

He was an idiot that was what he was. What normal dragon gets so friendly with humans, even for an Opaleye? Charlie did not want to believe it. He had no proof that Icarus was Malfoy but it seemed too much of a coincidence for a dragon that was not native to Britain to just drop out of the sky around the same time Malfoy was spotted turning into one.

Charlie had his wand out when he stormed up to Icarus and he did not give two shits about not being in the proper gear, or that if it really was Malfoy he might decide to roast Charlie when confronted. Charlie had poured his soul out to that dragon. Malfoy was a real piece of work if he honestly sat there and deceived him the entire time: saving him, listening to him, pretending to comfort him and care about him. And bloody hell, Ron was right; Charlie _did_ get too attached to the dragons.

He faltered when Icarus opened a sleepy eye and looked at him. Charlie told himself that the excitement he saw was there because he was looking for it and that he was an idiot for still wanting to reach out and run his hands along Icarus' scales. And when he thought about it carefully there were so many _human_ reactions that Icarus had mixed in with expected behaviour.

"I want you to be honest with me," Charlie said. He sounded hurt when he wanted to be furious and so he took a breath before continuing. "Is that you, Malfoy? Is it?"

The dragon lurched back and stared at him with wide eyes.

His heart dropped to his stomach.

"What. The. _Fuck_?" he asked loudly. He refused to let Malfoy see him shed any more tears and so he blinked them away. "What the fuck, Malfoy? What the bloody fuck? Did you think you'd just escape whatever shit you ran away from in Britain and then stay here once you saw we'd take care of you? I trusted you and I told you things, you little shit. I told you _things_!"

Malfoy was the textbook example of a terrified dragon. He cowered away from Charlie, kept his head low on the ground and his wings tucked tightly around him. The bastard _whinged_ at him and extended his neck slowly, pleadingly.

"Don't. _Don't_ do that," he said, jabbing his wand at Malfoy and hating himself for the way those whines affected him. "Don't you dare try to make me feel sorry for you, you lying son of a bitch! Change back. Change back right now! Do it!"

Malfoy only stared wide-eyed at him and then shook his head helplessly.

"You do it or I will," he threatened.

Malfoy looked away, still whining as if Charlie would give a fuck now that he knew.

Charlie took a deep breath and cast the counterspell, still hoping to himself that it was not Malfoy, and then he swore and forced himself not to strangle the blond-haired brat when he saw him down on all fours in the stall.

Godric, he felt like a fool.

* * *

It took Draco a few moments to collect himself after being changed back. He had spent a fair amount of time as a dragon and part of him was trying to move muscles that he did not have anymore. He barely even blinked when his wand flew into Charlie's hand with how out of sorts he was. He was also… well, he was worried, terrified, apologetic, riddled with guilt. At the same time, he had never actually deceived Charlie so he thought he deserved a chance to explain himself.

"Charlie, I'm sorry," he said, staggering to his feet.

He really wished he had at least a pair of trousers to put on. The night air stung his skin and standing starkers in his stall was not exactly how he wanted to have this conversation. Pain flared in his muscles -his left leg, the opposite side, the corresponding shoulder- and he fell onto the hay bedding.

"Stop moving. Bollocks," Charlie swore, running a hand over his face. "I should have thought that through. You weren't in any condition to change back with those injuries."

"I didn't mean to lie to you," he said, wincing and wrapping his arms around himself. Charlie barely spared him a glance and Summoned a warming blanket. "I couldn't change back. I tried. I never finished learning how to control it."

"Malfoy, don't lie to me," Charlie said, his voice rising at the end. He turned away and caught the blanket when it reached him. He shrunk it down to a size more reasonable for a human and tossed it at Draco. "This is bloody Scabbers all over again. You bloody rotten Death Eaters."

Draco paused in unfolding the blanket as chills that had nothing to do with the cold washed through him. That had hurt. It had hurt more than he had expected it to. He wrapped himself up tightly when the cold began to be more overwhelming than his shock. He needed to get back in a sense of mind where he knew the greater population would think ill of him and would treat him as a criminal. He supposed he was one, but he had done what he did to survive. He liked to think that he had had no choice. He liked to think that he had paid it all back with the hours he worked, the set conditions he lived by and the absurd amount of the Malfoy vaults and properties that were seized as reparations.

"I'm not lying," he said, because for some reason he wanted Charlie to believe him.

Charlie had to believe him. Charlie, whom he had seen cry and whom he had saved, befriended and cherished this past month. Charlie, who was the only person aside from Anthony that had not looked at him with some sort of malice, who cared about him.

"I'm still… I'm still Icarus, Charlie," he said, even though he still hated the name Jen had given him.

"Don't talk to me," Charlie said, sighing and then bending to pick him up. "I don't want to hear it and this is difficult enough as it is."

"I'm not lying," he repeated, ignoring the flat stare he got for his persistence and feeling a little too pleased at being in Charlie's arms. "I had to escape. I couldn't Disapparate and they probably would have killed me right there if I hadn't-"

"You were harassing a shop owner-"

"I was trying to buying potions because I was ill," he interrupted, because he did _not_ attack anyone and it infuriated him that it had been twisted from some woman refusing to sell him _medicine_ to him harassing her.

"Stop. Just stop," Charlie said. "I can't handle any more deceit tonight, Malfoy, so just _stop talking_. Please."

If Draco was with Anthony just then he would have looked at him pointedly because everything he had said had just been proven. No one wanted to take him at his word so trying to disprove anyone's lies or actions against him was _pointless_. He was going to find himself in Azkaban for breaking probation and for neglecting to register as an Animagus, despite being unable to complete the transformation cycle, all because he was Draco The-Death-Eater Malfoy: Doer of Evil and Committer of Crimes.

.o.

Minutes after Charlie had changed him back Draco was lying in the infirmary with Healers tending his wounds. His human immune system was less equipped to deal with dragon related injuries so he found himself being wrapped up in bandages with copious amounts of burn paste and healing salves underneath them.

Harry Bloody Potter and an Auror named Williamson, stood a few feet away talking to Charlie. Of course it would be Potter that came for him, even if he was only a trainee Auror.

"Malfoy," Potter said, having walked up to Draco. "Do you want to tell me what happened at Diagon Alley and why you haven't registered yourself as an Animagus?"

"Do you actually want to hear what I have to say?" he asked flatly, looking up at Potter. "Or are you just asking because it's your job to?"

"I actually want to hear," Potter said, leaning down and bracing his hand against the wall. He fixed Draco with a, quite frankly, disappointed and judgmental stare. A stare he had no right to use on Draco. "Because I'd like to know why you decided to throw away all the hard work you did this past year, and what was the point of my testifying for you was if you were just going to pull this rubbish."

"I didn't-" he began, more loudly than was necessary. Draco stopped himself and took a breath before speaking more calmly. There was no point to having it out with Potter. It would only make things worse. "I didn't do anything, and I haven't registered as yet because I haven't mastered the Transfiguration. Like I told Charlie-"

"Charlie?" Potter repeated, surprised.

"Like I told Charlie," he repeated, "I went to Diagon Alley to buy potions. Pepperup and a Headache Potion, because I felt like absolute shit. The witch at Mulpepper's refused to sell me anything. When I tried to take my money from the counter some bloke attacked me and so I raised a Shield Charm, then all of a sudden a mob's attacking _me_ for harassment."

"And you turning into a dragon?" Potter asked, not at all looking convinced.

"What else was I going to do, Potter?" he asked, glaring. "I couldn't reach the Apparition point and I was getting hexed left, right and center. Those people were out for blood. You can ask the keepers what condition they found me in. And I tried to change back after I crashed but I haven't been able to get that right yet. I was stuck."

"So you're telling me that we've got over ten eyewitnesses that are lying about you harassing that shopkeeper?" Potter asked, folding his arms.

"There were only two other people in the shop, so yes," he said, pulling the blanket further up to himself since the Healers were finished now. "But you've got over ten eyewitnesses so who gives a shit? And mind you, if I completed the Animagus process I could have just flown away once I was healed and then disappeared in some random country. I know the counterspells to most of those Locking Charms in the stable and could have very well broken through the rest after disabling them."

"You've been here at least six weeks, right?" Potter asked, looking as if he just realized something.

"I was hardly keeping track," he sighed. "But what of it?"

"You could have got away once you were healed. That's what you said," Potter said, glancing him over and ignoring the question. "Those," Potter said, gesturing a bandage, "aren't the same wounds. You got better, didn't you?"

"And?"

"What happened?" Potter asked. "For you to get those new wounds. What did you do?"

"What does it matter?" he asked. It did not pass his notice that apparently it had to be something that _he_ did. Something Potter made sound as if it would have had nefarious intentions behind it.

"It matters, Malfoy," Potter said.

"...I got in a tiff with Marja, another dragon," he muttered. "She was going to roast some of the keepers."

"Is Charlie going to tell me the same thing when I ask him what happened?" Potter asked.

"He should," Draco said. "Him and everyone else that was there."

"All right. I'll ask around. The Healers brought some clothes for you to change into," Potter said, after a few moments. "They'll help you into them and then we'll transfer you to St. Mungo's."

* * *

"Potter, you can't be telling me you actually _believe_ Malfoy," Auror Williamson snorted.

"He could have escaped as soon as he was able," Harry said. "I don't see why he would have stayed here as long as he did. Even Malfoy's got to know someone would notice the coincidence, especially since Charlie is Ron's brother. Information was bound to reach Romania at some point."

"What do you mean 'as soon as he was able'?" Auror Williamson asked. "Malfoy's still burned and sliced up pretty good. When would he have left? He's in no condition to be on his own."

"Those aren't his initial wounds," Harry said, before looking to Charlie. "Are they?"

"Uh, no, but I don't see why that matters," Charlie answered. Malfoy would have had to get past all the wards on the stable so he did not see the relevance of what Harry was saying. Those wards were bloody extensive.

"He could have left when those wounds healed," Harry said. "What was going to stop him from flying out of here and escaping? Or just leaving on foot and then Disapparating if he really could change back on his own. Malfoy's not that stupid. If he sees an opportunity to survive he'll take it. Survival is the entire reason he wound up serving Voldemort in the first place. And he's got a skill for charms, not to mention that he's probably seen and heard you all drop the wards countless times."

"Say you're right," Auror Williamson said, glancing in Malfoy's direction. "What was keeping him here? And why bother getting himself hurt again?"

"Don't ask me, I wasn't here," Harry shrugged, looking at Charlie. "But you were. What happened?"

"Harry's right. Malfoy's hypothermia was gone and his wounds were basically healed, so much so that he could have flown if he wanted to," Charlie answered, leaving out the bits where he and Icar- Malfoy supposedly became 'friends'. "I took him to fly a few times… With no issues."

"And his current wounds?" Auror Williamson asked.

"He… Well, he saved some of us yesterday when a Horntail was on the fritz," he said. He could not help looking at Malfoy at that. It just did not make any sense now that he knew it was Malfoy that had saved him. "Why would he do that?"

"Exactly. _Why?_ And from what I know of Malfoy he's not the sort to do that. To put himself at risk for random people," Harry said, watching Malfoy. "I've only ever seen him try to protect people he genuinely cares about: Lucius and Narcissa, Crabbe and Goyle, himself."

"You trying to tell me that _Malfoy_ over there is virtuous?" Auror Williamson asked, incredulously.

"Godric, no," Harry laughed. "I'm saying he's got his own set of virtues, which means he was protecting someone he cared about." Harry looked at Charlie then. "Someone he didn't want to get hurt. Someone he might have stayed at the reservation for despite his better judgement."

"No," Charlie said, disagreeing with everything Harry was insinuating. If Malfoy cared at all he would have changed back and he would have told them all what had happened. Unless he could not.

"You're reaching, Potter," Auror Williamson scoffed.

"It's worth looking into. We could- Why don't we see if he's willing to let us see his memories or take Veritaserum?" Harry asked. "It's not illegal with his consent."

"Potter, most of the people we take in immediately refuse upon asking," Auror Williamson said. "It's why we hardly ever ask anymore. Even worse, Malfoy's a Death Eater. He would never agree to that."

"Couldn't hurt to try, could it?" Harry said, with a shrug. "If he's telling the truth and we dismiss it then he's going to Azkaban for the Animagus charges _and_ ignoring the stipulations of his probation, not to mention the alleged assault. That's a good few years to go to Azkaban over what might have been self-defence. And you and I both know how the other inmates treat Death Eaters."

"Do I still need to be here?" Charlie asked, needing time to think.

"I think we've got everything we can from you, Mr. Weasley," Auror Williamson said. "But we'll find you if we need anything else."

"Right," he nodded.

.o.

As it turned out, Charlie could not sleep that night. He kept thinking about the time he had spent with Malfoy… Icarus - Malfoy must have hated that name. Betrayal was burning deep inside him as he reflected on the past few weeks. He sighed and rolled out of bed, rubbing at his face. If Charlie had to undergo the torture of going through his memories then he thought he might as well do it with a Pensieve. He did not own one himself but Hugh did, and so he grabbed a cloak and headed outside.

All things considered, Charlie was not too concerned about whether his friend was asleep.

* * *

Brilliant, so, Draco was now at St. Mungo's with guards at his door while Potter and Auror Williamson were off picking through the memories he gave them with a fine-tooth comb. In the meanwhile, Draco was trying to stop thinking as if he was still a dragon. The problem was that he had spent enough time in the form for it to take him a while to readjust to human thinking and functions. He was still trying to flex his wings or flick his tail after an entire day. At least he had not tried to breathe fire.

When the door to his room opened he looked over, ready to glare at any Auror that came in or adopt a more polite demeanor for the St. Mungo's staff. It was Anthony. He hardly expected Charlie to visit him with the way things had gone the other night but part of him had still hoped.

"Hi," he said, baffled. "What are you doing here?"

"Finding out what the bloody hell happened. I've had Aurors coming to my office since you disappeared and then two of them tell me they found you on a _dragon reservation_," Anthony said, pulling up a chair. "Are those burns? What the bloody hell happened to you?"

"I'm sorry, do you want the story from the beginning or from when I got these?" he asked, gesturing at his bandages.

"Beginning," Anthony said, "because last I heard from you, you were going to either go home or get some Pepperup."

"Yeah, well, I went for the Pepperup and, well, pitchforks," he sighed, pinching a bandage. The burns were not so bad that they would leave scarring but the lacerations were. "I should have just gone home and tried to sleep it off."

"Well, I've spent weeks telling the authorities that you didn't strike me as the type to attack someone, so I reckon you can give me more than that," Anthony said. "And I gave those Aurors copies of the files that were tampered with. It might help to have proof that people are actively working against you."

"You kept the originals?" Draco asked.

"Like I said before, I'm nice, not stupid," Anthony said smugly. "Now, tell me what happened, Draco. And why you look like someone kicked your crup."

* * *

"If you sigh _one more time_," Jen said, pinning him with glare. "And stop looking at his stall."

"Sorry, I just-"

"Miss him?" Jen asked, cutting him off. Charlie sighed at that. "You _do _miss him. Well don't. I mean, you know him as a dragon but you don't know him as a_ person_. And he lied to us."

Charlie huffed at that because going through his memories in Hugh's Pensieve had not helped with that theory. Charlie had expected to see something, anything that showed Malfoy was using them but all he saw was what seemed like, genuineness. Malfoy had never once tried to escape his stall, or fly off once he was outside of it. He had always kept himself a bit stubborn and held onto the attitude Charlie had always heard his brothers mentioning. Most of all though, was the way Malfoy acted the night Charlie had gone to the Burrow for the weekend. Malfoy had not needed to be quite so supportive or protective of him and it was impossible for Charlie to read Malfoy as anything but true when he watched that memory. He had seen the same sort of protectiveness in Malfoy when he had saved them from Marja as well, more of it even.

But it just did not make _sense_.

"If you're torn up about this you could visit him at the hospital and talk to him," Jen said. "Assuming the Aurors would even let you into his room. I can tell you aren't convinced he was lying. You're a big softie in that way, even if you have a fit before you admit it."

"I'm an idiot is what I am," he muttered.

"None of us picked up on it," Jen said. "So I reckon we're all idiots."

.o.

"Hey, did you lot need something else?" Charlie asked, when he spotted Harry waiting for him at his cabin.

"We went through Malfoy's memories," Harry said, as Charlie unlocked his door. "Gave him Veritaserum as well."

"Isn't that overkill?" he asked, going inside with Harry following behind him. "And are you even allowed to be talking about this with me?"

"I haven't given you any details so nothing's wrong," Harry said, closing the door behind them. "After seeing some of the memories I thought you might want to know that Malfoy was telling the truth… All of it. Every word."

"Okay," he said, after a deep breath.

So Malfoy _had_ told the truth. Now what? What was Charlie supposed to do with that information? It was not as if they had been in the sort of relationship that warranted him running to Malfoy's bedside; they were dragon and dragon keeper, friends of a sort.

"And I think Malfoy might care about you as much as you care about him," Harry said. When Charlie was about to ask how the bloody hell he could know that, he added, "I might've slipped in a few extra questions while he was under Veritaserum, and some of the emotions I picked up on in his memories were… well… a little too personal for my comfort."

"That's an abuse of power, that is," he said.

"I was thinking more along the lines of looking out for a brother," Harry said, patting Charlie's shoulder. "Anyway, Malfoy's hearing will be in a few days. He _should_ be all right, but another witness wouldn't hurt. You know how the Wizengamot can get."

"I don't know Malfoy, Harry," he said, sitting on the back of his couch. "I spent time with a dragon."

"Who happened to be Malfoy," Harry shrugged. "So what? Does it change the fact that he saved you or that he was there for you when you needed him?"

"You saw that…" Charlie said, covering his face.

"We had him give us everything," Harry said, a bit apologetically. "If he could have he would have changed back, and… I think everything else you'd want to hear from him."

"Why are you defending him, Harry?" he asked.

After Hogwarts and the war, Charlie thought that Harry would be one of the last people to run to Malfoy's side.

"I don't think he did anything that warrants an arrest," Harry said. "So why shouldn't I? And it's not as if he's got anyone else to help him. So if I think he's innocent I might as well say something."

"He doesn't have any friends to call to stand?" he asked.

"Aside from his Offender Manager?" Harry said, with pitying smile. "I'd say he has one more, who seems a bit reluctant to take the stand…. I'm trying to persuade him though... Right now actually..."

"I got it," Charlie said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Godric, you're terrible at subtle hints."

"It's no wonder Ginny knew I was going to propose before I did it, yeah?" Harry smiled.

Charlie laughed and nodded.

"You've got a few days to think it through," Harry said, patting his arm. "I better get going before I'm late for dinner."

.o.

On the day of the trial Charlie struggled with if he should attend. He had already taken the Floo to the Ministry but he had yet to step onto the lift. Malfoy's trial would begin in ten minutes and it would take at least five to get to the correct courtroom, which meant that Charlie had about that much time to decide whether he thought he should listen to Harry and give Malfoy a chance.

When he thought about it he realized there were two different things that he was trying to answer as a singular question: testifying for Malfoy; and giving him a chance at… whatever it was that they had. Charlie could step in front of the Wizengamot and tell the truth, and hopefully get Malfoy's charges dropped, but that did not mean he had to instantly forgive him.

Charlie stepped onto the lift when it came again and he pressed the button for Malfoy's courtroom. His hurt feelings and his confusion were no reason to risk an innocent person going to Azkaban.

If he thought that Malfoy was innocent though, what was it that was still bothering him?

* * *

Draco was not sure what to expect when he saw Charlie step into the courtroom. He was even less sure of what to expect when Charlie stepped up to the stand. Anthony had already spoken and Potter and his partner had gone as well, all stating legal truths that worked in Draco's favour - what they thought of his personality, the events in his memories, the things he had said under Veritaserum and the way he had been targeted at Diagon Alley and at his community payback. He was not sure what else Charlie could say for the Wizengamot to pick apart until the entire room was frustrated with them. He was not even sure if Charlie was there to defend him really, and he could not decide if he would prefer having Charlie not attend or attend only to speak against him.

When Charlie spoke he addressed the room instead of Draco. He spoke about the Floo call from Weasley, the hypothermia that would validate Draco's claims of a fever, the wounds that were caused by borderline illegal curses and that the dragon keepers were the ones to move him out of the country - meaning that he technically had not fled. Charlie talked about Draco's behaviour at the reservation and retold the events with Marja and how he had saved Charlie and a number of other keepers. It was more than enough for Draco because it meant that Charlie did not hate him and that there was at least hope for companionship. It was difficult for Draco to stop himself from staring at the man for the entirety of the testimony.

He just wished Charlie would look him in the eye for more than a split second.

.o.

"Two months house arrest isn't that bad, Malfoy," Potter said, as he finished up the last of the Tracking Charms. Failing to mention that Draco still had his previous probationary period to finish as well. "You look like you've been sentenced to the Kiss."

"You try getting sentenced for what was wholly self defense and see how you feel, Potter," Draco muttered, his mood sour.

He had hoped he would see Charlie after the trial but he supposed he had been too optimistic. Just because Charlie add been kind enough to speak at the trial did not mean everything would go back to normal, which was not even normal actually. Draco was not sure what he had expected to happen after Charlie had spoken but it was not this, marinating in his own bitterness because he had known full well that things would eventually turn to shit.

Maybe he could owl Charlie.

"I was expelled from Hogwarts for using magic, remember?" Potter said. "I defended myself against the Dementors that attacked me and my cousin but they didn't bother to try me until Dumbledore made a fuss. Then the Wizengamot didn't want to acknowledge the attack."

"Let's pretend for a second that these two things compare," he said, fixing Potter with a level gaze. "You were absolved of charges so it isn't the same thing. At all. And they eventually acknowledged what happened without needing to rifle through your memories or use Veritaserum to corroborate it."

"I know that," Potter said. "But the acknowledgement of something doesn't change how you initially felt about it, does it?"

"I'm sure Charlie will talk to you eventually," Anthony said, walking into the room. "What? Is that not what you're talking about? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Draco glanced at Potter and then glared at Anthony for saying that out loud.

"Hmm? Oh, I already know you fancy Charlie," Potter said, giving him a dismissive wave before turning to Anthony. "How's the flat?"

"All clear, and the anti-Apparition wards are functioning and Floo only allows travel one way," Anthony said, tucking his wand away. "So, Draco, I'll stop by once a week since you technically can't go to my office. I'll check to see if everything's in order and, well, you already know the drill."

"I'm sorry," Draco said, incredulously, still stuck on what Potter had said, "you know? And you don't have a lecture or a threat of some sort for me?"

"Well I reckon you know what I'd say if I said it, so why bother?" Potter asked. "And I saw your memories, so yeah, I know."

"Brilliant," Draco sighed, walking to and collapsing onto his couch. "Just bloody brilliant."

"He misses you too, Malfoy," Potter said. "I just don't know if he fancies you. You were a dragon the entire time, so I don't know if you're more of a pet or-"

"I wasn't aware of that, Potter. Thank you," Draco said, half into the couch. The cushion muffled some of the loudness and edge to his words. It did not do much for the bitterness though. "This entire time I was under the impression that it was me he had been talking to instead of a scaled creature."

"Right, well, I reckon I should leave since we're done with the charms," Potter said.

"Please," he said, in a fairly brusque tone.

"If Charlie talks to you again," Potter said, before stepping out the door, "don't be a git, or else."

_There's the inevitable threat I knew I'd get_, he thought, as Potter left. He had not waited for a reply.

"So, I vote that you and I finally have that drink," Anthony said, when the front door clicked shut. "To celebrate that you didn't go to Azkaban, and to distract you from your very bizarre relationship conundrum."

Draco rolled and shifted until he was sitting upright. "Yes, a drink," he said. Tomorrow he could fuss over whether to write Charlie. Tonight he would get drunk. "You'll have to pop out and buy something though. My cabinets are empty."

* * *

Charlie was fairly sure that Harry was not supposed to have given him Malfoy's address, at least not legally. He stood at Malfoy's front door wondering what the bloody hell it was he wanted to say, or know, or do. Listening to Malfoy's trial had answered most of his questions and it was difficult to ignore the fact that Malfoy had not had a clue how to change himself back, which meant he had not intentionally deceived Charlie. That had been a lot to think about.

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. A few moments later the door opened and Malfoy's Offender Manager was blinking at him curiously, swaying and looking somewhere between piss drunk and sober.

"You're that Charlie fellow," the Offender Manager said. "Come on in, come on."

"If this isn't a good time-" he began.

"No, no, no," the man said, trying to guide Charlie inside. "You can't just leave. That'd make Draco sad… er. Sadder." He managed to pull Charlie through the door and shut it behind them. "And he'll get whinier. I didn't know he could be so whiny. Draco, guess you who stopped by?"

"My mother?" came Malfoy's voice, before Charlie stepped into view. He was pouring firewhiskey into a mug and nearly dropped the bottle when he looked up.

"No," the Offender Manager snorted, before he whispered loudly, "It's that Charlie fellow you've been pining over."

Charlie's blinked in surprise and Malfoy blushed red as he raised his mug to his lips and swallowed what looked like a mouthful.

"I'm going to leave. So you two can... talk," the Offender Manager said, before grabbing his cloak and heading out the door.

There was a long moment where all Charlie did was try not to stare at Malfoy, while Malfoy could not seem to stop staring at him.

"Something to say, Malfoy?" Charlie asked.

"...Do you believe me now?" Malfoy asked. "Pensieve memories and Verits- …Veritaserum should be pretty bloody believable."

"I reckon they are," Charlie agreed. "But you can understand why I didn't believe you, yes? I mean, would you?"

Malfoy stared down at his left arm before shaking his head. "Probably not," he said, hiding his Mark. "No… Look I-" He stood up, wobbled and then sat back down. "Er, maybe you could sit down."

"All right," Charlie said, taking a seat in the armchair. "I don't plan on staying very long though."

"You hate me, don't you?" Malfoy asked suddenly. "It's fine I guess; almost everyone does."

"I don't hate you, Malfoy," he said. "I just don't like what happened. I don't like feeling as if I've been taken advantage of."

"If I recall correctly, I did protest a bit when I first saw you," Malfoy said. "Not sure what else I could've done to tell you to leave me alone. I'll admit the first week or so is a bit hazy though, so that might be my imagination."

"You were in dreadful shape," he said, imagining for the first time the sort of state Malfoy would have been in had he not turned into a dragon. "I'd be surprised if you could remember it all."

"Thank you," Malfoy said.

"What?" he asked, not following the conversation.

"For… everything. Thank you," Malfoy said. "And Jen, and Hugh, and the Healers at the reservation. Just, thanks. You lot are… You've got happy dragons. Except Marja, but she's just in a bit of a mood."

"You can talk to them…" he said. He was not sure why he had not thought of it before now, but Malfoy was able to understand both humans and dragons and that could be exceptionally useful. "What's wrong with Marja?"

"_You're welcome, Malfoy_," Malfoy said sarcastically, before taking a swig from his mug. "Jen's right, you really should just date one of the bloody dragons. Always thinking about dragons. Always worrying over dragons. Marja's _fine_, she just needs time to mourn the egg that was too weak to hatch. Some time on the mountains with the… mini-Marja's would be good."

For the moment Charlie ignored the statements that had nothing to do with Marja and carried on. "What happened with her and Ned? Why were they fighting?" he asked.

"You don't want to know anything about _me_, do you?" Malfoy asked. He sighed and then laid face-down in the couch. He turned his head to Charlie so that his words were not muffled by the couch. "I was more interesting as Icarus, wasn't I? And Ned is a little shit. No one likes him. He's the only one dumb enough to piss her off right now."

"Why-" he paused and took a breath. Apparently discussing their personal matters would not wait until Charlie was done discussing work, so he changed course. "Why wouldn't you fly with Jen or Hugh?"

Malfoy blinked and frowned at him. "I didn't want to," he said.

"I reckon, but why not?" Charlie asked.

"They weren't you," Malfoy said. "I wanted to fly with you. Why did you fly with Icarus instead of one of your other dragons when you went away for George's birthday?"

Charlie wanted to say that that was different but it was a difficult thing to do. He could have gone to another dragon, one he had known longer and better. It was Malfoy that he had decided to take out though.

"I reckon it was for the same reason," he admitted. "But I didn't know who you were. You've always known who I am."

"Bullshit," Malfoy said, sitting up and holding Charlie's gaze. "I'm still Icarus. I just didn't have my…. my name, my _real_ name, following me around with its taint when you met me. But I'm still your dragon, Charlie. I'm your bloody dragon."

"You're my dragon," he half said, half asked. Charlie watched Malfoy -with his short hair, lean frame and passable looks- and realized that Harry had to have known that Malfoy _cared_ about him, and not in the way you would think a dragon cared about its keeper. But Charlie had not exactly thought of Icarus the way he did his other dragons either. "You're my dragon."

"I want to be," Malfoy nodded.

"Malfoy," he said, getting up and moving to the couch. "I don't want to be your keeper. I can't be."

"So that's it then?" Malfoy asked, sitting back sulkily. "You just came here to bid me adieu?" He swished his hand through the air at that.

"I didn't exactly have a plan of action," he admitted. "But I wanted to see you to decide how to approach this. And now that I have, I wouldn't mind trying to get to know you… sober."

"Please don't tell me you just want us to be friends," Malfoy said, rolling his head towards Charlie and touching his knee. "I think I've already gone a little past that."

"I don't know yet," said truthfully. "But I've probably gone a little past it myself. Whatever it is I want from this, I know that being your keeper wouldn't exactly be the right way to phrase it."

"Go on a date with me," Malfoy said. "Please?"

"You're under house arrest," he pointed out, amused. "I didn't think you'd be eager to go back to the courtroom this soon."

"We can have it here," Malfoy said hopefully, leaning forwards until his head was on Charlie's shoulder. "Whenever. I don't have anything else to do but practice for N.E. ."

"...All right," he agreed, easing Malfoy off of him. It was good to know that Malfoy wanted to finish up his schooling. Charlie had forgotten that he had not. "Do you want some water to drink?"

"I think I'd rather go to bed. I'm tired," Malfoy said. "Hey, did you ever tell your mum that you met a nice dragon?"

Charlie laughed and shook his head. "No. No, I didn't," he said. "But I might, depending on how that date goes."

"Don't let Jen talk you out of it," Malfoy said sternly.

"I'll do my best," he nodded.

"And tell her that I hated the name Icarus," Malfoy said. "Especially the one time she called me Icky."

"Not one of her best moments." He smiled, getting up. "C'mon let's get you to bed."

"Can you stay the night?" Malfoy asked, wobbling a little as he stood. Charlie wrapped an arm around him to steady him. "I always liked it when you stayed with me until I fell asleep."

_And I liked staying with you._

"I can," he said, noticing for the first time the brilliant blue-grey of Malfoy's eyes. It did not compare to the opal iris Malfoy had as a dragon but it was catching in its own way, a more human way. "Yeah."

Charlie lifted Malfoy, since Malfoy seemed more inclined to smile softly at him than walk, and then headed down the hallway he was directed to and into Malfoy's room. They lay on separate sides of the bed and Malfoy hummed when Charlie stroked his neck by sheer habit. The reaction was so like Icarus that he smiled and kept on doing it.

"Good night, Charlie," Malfoy said.

"Night, Malfoy," he said, wondering if Malfoy had said that to him on the nights he had stayed to pet Icarus until he fell asleep.

It took Malfoy an impressively short amount of time to slip into slumber and Charlie took the opportunity to really look at him. Malfoy's cheekbones were as sharp as Icarus' but there was not much else that he could see in resemblance, save for the scars he knew Malfoy had. Charlie gave in to the urge he had to kiss Malfoy's nose, softer than Icarus' by far but eliciting the same contented hum. He had no clue if this could work but he reckoned they might as well give it a try.


End file.
